


The Forest

by Maybelline



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Detective Shiro (Voltron), Farmer Keith (Voltron), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Horses, M/M, Stripper Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-12 22:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21233567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybelline/pseuds/Maybelline
Summary: As the world fades from golden to black, Keith finds an abused Lance trapped inside of a broken down truck behind his farm. As he cares for his newly acquired charge, he will embark on an emotional rollercoaster he did NOT sign up for, involving dirty secrets, pesky horses, captivating stories, and broken hearts.





	The Forest

**Author's Note:**

> Work in progress maybe? If you guys like it I might post more. As it is I don't write very often, but I could try to make a schedule if people actually enjoy my work? Leave a comment telling me what you think! <3
> 
> Support me (Raechel Krippner, Maybelline) on Patreon, where I share photography, art, and inside information on fanfics in progress as well as original fanfics found no where else. <3
> 
> [Become a Patron!](https://www.patreon.com/bePatron?u=6514119)

It was with a chest squeezed by apprehension that Keith had entered the forest, located a few meters from his large, vermilion red barn. He had begun his search with the sun at her highest, but now the worlds golden mistress was sinking below the horizon, and darkness would soon fall like a heavy woolen blanket, leaving him with only the light of the moon, blocked by the thick canopy overhead.

It’s mid-November, the days cold, but the night’s colder. He’s glad he remembered to bring his coat.

Were it not for Blue, Keith would have left the forest hours ago. Blue was a Holsteiner Horse with a cool gray coat that tricked the eye into thinking she was covered with a layer of water when she moved.

She was cool tempered and curious, always finding a way to escape the pen where she roamed with Red, Ebony, Jade, and Biscuit, to follow Keith around the yard and make his work that much harder. Though, before today, she had never left the property, and almost always avoided the denseness of the forest, preferring the open pastures to the east of the barn.

Blue just wasn’t the type of horse who liked small spaces. She couldn’t deal with them without someone to guide her. That’s why Keith was so concerned to find her and that’s why he can’t leave until he did.

“Blue! Blue, come on back now!” He calls out once more before clicking his tongue. “Come one girl!”

To his left, just audible over the gentle autumn breeze, he hears the telltale whinny of a horse. With a sigh of relief, Keith pushes his way through the overgrowth and into a clearing, revealing Blue walking around what appears to be an abandoned pickup truck.

Rust coats most of the vehicle, save a few splotches of baby blue. The driver's side window is shattered and the rear view cracked as if it had been struck by a rock. The tires we flat, the rubber missing from the drivers side rim, and the back door stood slightly ajar.

Had the sun been up, Keith wouldn’t have paid it any mind, but as it was, he couldn’t help but feel that something was off. Blue was snorting and huffing, pushing her hooves into the ground and turning in circles by the open door.

Keith reached to his belt, tugging his knife from its sheath before cautiously approaching the truck. Blue stopped her urgent movements, nickering at Keith and tapping her hoof on the ground impatiently. Keith paused, loosening his grip on his knife and tilting his head in question. Blue huffed impatiently, trotting up behind him and pushing him toward the truck with her snout.

“Blue, stop that! What's gotten into you today! Sto-, Blue stop it.” Keith cursed as her insistent shoving caused him to stumble into the side of the vehicle. “Blue!”

Blue took a step back, huffing. Keith swung around in frustration, opening his mouth to scold the horse when a small sound from inside the vehicle caught his attention. Pausing, Keith turned back toward the vehicle, raising his knife into a defensive position.

“Hello? Is someone in there?” There’s a moment of silence before he is answered by a muffled whimper. Holding his knife closer, Keith toed open the door, jumping away at the sight before him.

A boy, seemly around his age, was trapped in the back seat of the truck, brown skin heavily desaturated into a pale gray. His chestnut hair hung in shaggy locks over a bloodstained cloth tied around his eyes and another around his mouth. Dried blood and tears clung to his cheeks and his neck was taped to the headrest behind him tightly, likely to choke him if he tried to move.

There was more tape wrapped around his chest, securing his arms to his side, and the seat belt buckled. Though his wrists were hidden behind his back, it was obvious they were bound as well. His lower back was being forced to the middle of the shredded seat, as his knees were being pulled toward the passenger seat headrest, his feet hanging low, taped to the armrests.

His blue button-up clung to his skin with sweat and blood and his skin-tight jeans were covered in dirt as if they hadn’t been washed in ages. If Keith’s hunch was right, they probably hadn’t been. The boy’s feet were bare and his toes- along with his fingertips, ears, and nose- were tinted blue with frostnip.

“Shit… Holy fuck! Oh my God!” Keith exclaims softly, taking a step back to gather himself. “U-Uh… Okay, um… Don’t worry. I’m gonna get you out, okay. I, uh, I have a knife with me so I can cut the tape off. Just… Just hold on.” His answer is another weak whimper.

Keith rushes around to the other side of the truck, carefully opening up the door blocking him from the boy inside.

“Okay, I’m gonna start cutting you loose. Uh, try not to move too much. I don’t want to hurt you.” The boy doesn't make a sound, leaning his head back to rest against the headrest, giving Keith better access to the tape around his neck.

“Alright. I’m gonna start with the bindings around your face.” With that said, Keith leans forward, gently carving through the thick fabrics. They separated quickly and Keith pulled them away gently. He was immediately taken aback by the startling blueness of the boys eyes.

They were sickly and bloodshot, unfocused and clouded, framed by dark purple bruises, but seemed to hold oceans and stars within them. There was a surprising lack of emotion as the boy stared back at him.

His lips were pale and chapped, his bottom lip harboring a deep cut down the center. He had a large, but shallow gash curving from the center of his eyebrow to the bottom of his cheekbones, which were gorgeously high. Keith wasn’t afraid to admit that this boy was ethereal, even in his current state of deterioration. Another soft whimper brought him back from his musings.

“Uh… okay… Hi. My names Keith. C-can you tell me yours?” His inquiry was met with silence and tired eyes. “Alright. That’s alright. I’m gonna take this buckle off of you, okay? I have to lean over you to do that. Is that gonna be okay?”

The boy looks at him in silence for an awkwardly long time before leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. Keith takes this as an invitation, and slowly leans over the too thin boy, unbuckling the seatbelt. As he’s retreating from the interior, he carefully pushes his knife under the tape between the boys feet and armrests, allowing them to swing freely, as well as the tape trapping his legs to the headrest, gently lowering them the floorboards.

From there, Keith moves to remove the tape around the boys throat, peeling it aside as quickly and carefully as he could so as not to hurt the boy further. It tore a strangled gasp from the boys mouth, his eyes fluttering open to look at Keith.

“Sorry,” He murmers, “Just your arms left and then I’ll get you out of here, okay?” 

As he removes the tape from the faded fabric of the boys shirt, Keith glances up into his eyes.

“I’ll take you back to my farm and then we can call the police and an ambulance.” At his words, Keith had hoped for some sort of reaction, but the one he got was not what he was expecting. The boys newly freed hand shot out, grabbing ahold of Keiths shirt collar weakly.

“**No**!” The boy croaked, “Not- not the p-police. Please! No c-cops. No people. Please. No.”

“Okay! Okay no cops. I won’t call anybody, but you need help.” As Keith spoke, the boy grew more and more despondent, his hand falling from Keith’s shirt, thudding dully against the worn upholstery, body falling forward into Keith’s chest as if a string had been pulled to tight and snapped. 

Quickly wrapping his arms around the despondent boy, Keith lifted him out of the truck.

“No.. please…. Please don’... plizz… ‘m fine… n-no c’ps.” 

“Alright. No cops. I’ll just- I’ll just take you back to mine. okay? I can try to patch you up there?” His only reply was the whisper of breath against his throat.

  
  



End file.
